Page 8 of The Lost Princess

“She’s awake.”

A foot prodded me in my side, and I curled into a protective ball around the horse. Hands picked me up by my arms and hauled me upright and down off the animal. I blinked the sunlight and pain away, trying to focus. Five men surrounded me, including a sixth who looked at me curiously, dressed in silks with a simple golden circlet on his dark hair.

King Werris!

Jarrett was conveniently nowhere to be found.

“Please, let me go,” I begged, knowing he was the only one with the power to send me home, and back to my life and family.

His face tightened, and that’s when I knew. He wouldn’t give in, just like Jarrett hadn’t given in. I didn’t believe these men were evil, but there was a reason they’d brought me to the edge of this desert and the base of the mountains, and that reason was stronger than any pity they had for me. It was stronger than any morals or ethics they held about kidnapping a young girl and holding her hostage.

I was about to find out what that reason was.

“Truly, I am sorry. You must understand; it is you versus my people. And I must protect my people. It’s also meant to punish your father, though unfortunately you bear the brunt of his misdeeds.”

The king did appear apologetic, but it did little to improve my own mood. The men cut through the fabric of my bonds, assisting me to stand on my own. I looked around wildly, my hope dying as instantly as it had arrived. There was nowhere to run to. We were quite literally in a desert at the base of the mountains. The landscape was devoid of life; devoid of anything, really.

Werris sighed. “We began mining these mountains a few generations ago, looking for a way to break our dependency on Tarta iron, and perhaps mine the jewels and trade them across the mountains. That was before the great war, of course. Now trade has all but disappeared. However, that isn’t our current problem.”

Good, I thought, because I couldn’t give a rat’s tail about his history or economics lesson. I held my tongue, waiting to hear what in the world this had to do with me.

Werris paused, his brow furrowing. “All was fine for a few decades until we dug too deep. We …awakenedsomething.”

An odd chill filled the air, and I shivered.

King Werris’s eyes darkened. “Whatever it is, it caught the scent of my workers. It followed them back to Cilla. It learned there was an entire kingdom of flesh and blood to prey upon. It hunts my farmers, killing the livestock and frightening the children. It’s only a matter of time until it starts killing people.”

My patience was thin, and my head throbbed. “What does any of that have to do with me?”

King Werris flushed, embarrassed for a moment, but then the emotion was wiped away. “I had a … soothsayer of sorts give me advice. A witch of some kind I think, an unnatural woman.” He shook his mane of dark hair as if he could physically shake the memory of her away. “She said an offering to the creature would subdue it, and make it retreat back into its mountain depths and leave my kingdom alone. But the sacrifice had to be very specific, she said.”

The pain in my head was incredible, and my stomach rolled with nausea. Whether it was from my injury or King Werris’s story, I had no idea.

“The sacrifice had to be you,” Alfred finished, and the men pushed me, dragging me forward.

Horrifying clarity shot through me. I dragged my feet. I writhed and flailed, but all to no effect. His men held me tightly.

“Again, we are sorry. But I’d much rather sacrifice the daughter of another kingdom than many of my people.” He frowned. “Even if you are a rare, exquisite specimen.”

Werris held out his hand, and one of the soldiers withdrew an iron manacle from his saddlebag, as well as an iron spike. The man walked toward me while King Werris mounted his horse.

“No! Don’t!” I screamed at him, but I might as well have been screaming at the sun to stop shining for all the good it did me. I turned to the men dragging me, desperate to appeal to them. “Don’t do it. You’re good men. Iknowyou are.”

They dutifully ignored me, taking care to avoid my gaze. One took the manacle and attached it to the large iron spike, which they drove into the ground with a massive hammer. The remaining three men held me tightly. I tried to stomp on their feet, but they simply moved out of the way. I tried to bite them, but they just shoved a handkerchief between my teeth.

“It is unfortunate, but most poetic that these were made using iron from your kingdom’s mines,” King Werris mused.

It wasn’t unfortunate, it was sick.

They threw me down to the ground, and the manacle was around my ankle before I could blink. The men turned their backs to me immediately, all except for one.

“I am sorry,” he intoned, his accent thick and heavy. I tried to scoot away from him, tugging the handkerchief out of my mouth. Then he withdrew a knife, and grabbed me.

“No—”

He sliced an angry line down my forearm, then hid the dagger away. It took a moment for the pain to register, my arm stinging like mad as I bled freely into the sand. The sudden pain left me too shocked to immediately notice the canteen of water and the pouch of jerky that landed nearby. I’d never been hurt like this before. Who did they think they were? When I got back home, I would start a war.They’d all be sorry!

“Again, sorry.”

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